Inside the Wagner House
by VeeXanya9
Summary: Just as Gilda and Albert Wagner are about to give up on having a child of their own, they find an infant abandoned in a nearby stream. At first it seems like a dream come true, but the discovery of their new son's special talents will test their limits…and change their life forever. The prologue is shorter than the other chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Inside the Wagner House

Prologue

A vicious storm had broken out tonight. Raindrops pounded harshly against the windowpane, with a quick _plink, plink, plink_ rhythm. In the distance, a chorus of angry howls could be heard cutting through the whistle of wind. The tiny landscape below seemed barely able to withstand the torrential winds pounding against the earth, rocking the sparse trees and uprooting loose plants from the soil. A sliver of pale moonlight shone down through the window of a humble cabin onto Gilda's book, and she positioned her candle further away from her eyes.

"It's quite a night," she stated simply, turning towards her husband. The wooden chair creaked as her weight shifted. Her husband looked up from the fishing rod he had been fixing.

"Mm-hm. I thought there'd be a storm, but they didn't mention anything this bad on the television." Silence. Albert looked back to his work, silently threading a new line. Outside, the wolves' melody rose in volume.

"I sure hope they don't come down here, cost me quite a lot to get the barn running again last time we had a raid…"he mentioned in a drained voice. Moving so close to the mountain ranges brought in its own fair share of troubles, namely chicken-snatching predators. The couple learned this the hard way a while ago. But it was void when compared to more recent events, still fresh in their memories.

His wife said nothing, but continued to stare down at her book. Her eyes merely glazed over the text. Albert sighed.

"I hate seeing you like this, dear." Gilda seemed not to take any notice, but her voice became more rigid.

"Just let it go, honey, it'll be alright."

"Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than me." His wife went stiff when she heard this.

"It's been a whole week…I'm just saying, we could always adopt-"

"You don't _understand_." She pushed herself up from the chair. Her hands came down on the table with such force that the house shuddered. Or was it the work of the storm? It had gotten so violent tonight that it was hard to tell. Gilda's husband looked up at her with sudden concern, and she sunk back into her seat.

"It's not as simple as that, Albert. We just have to forget about this. Move-move on," Her voice had cracked. Albert shook his head. He _did _understand, but he wished more than anything that he didn't have to. A whole year spent in preparation. One whole year, toiling away at a crib, at a room…a whole year of research, anticipation, welcoming happy thoughts of the future. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard his wife shut her book.

"This isn't something I want to think about tonight."

"I know it's not. Listen, Gilda. I know this is difficult. Yes, maybe we should have learned about this earlier than we did. But it's not your fault."

Slowly, he eased his way out of his seat, walking towards his wife. Before she could take the first step up the staircase he trapped her in a hug from behind. She stopped, and for a moment they stood there, content. Than Albert released his grip.

"We don't need a child anyhow. We've got each other." Gilda's hand went to her wedding ring. In the daylight, she recalled the sapphire glittering with a soft blue hue. A small smile crept across her face.

"You know I'd never leave you. It's been too long; and besides, too much of a bother looking for someone else." The couple chuckled. Outside, the rain had started to calm, slowing into a light _pitter-patter_. Perhaps, if one listened very closely, they could hear a commotion on the far-off mountain, and a splash in the waterfall.

"We'll get through this, dear, you can count on that."


	2. Chapter 2

Inside the Wagner House

Chapter 1

The next day was already looking better off. Gilda was outside early, sitting on the front porch and feeding some leftover bread to the birds. Albert wouldn't be surprised if she knew them all by name, the way she chatted with them, as though they were people. She took an interest in all things; bids, kids, animals of all sorts. She showed no hint of sadness, no indication of what happened behind the windows that last stormy night. And neither did the land; indeed, the only thing wet today was the morning dew on the grass. It was a scene out of a storybook.

"Morning, Mrs. Wagner." A tall man clad in a dull overcoat waved to her as he walked briskly by.

"Good morning, Drake! Why the heavy coat? It's gorgeous out."

"I was just being prepared, Mrs. Wagner. That storm was unnaturally bad. It was something out of Hell itself, I'll tell you that." Gilda nodded, but giggled under her breath.

"Everything with you is something from Hell, Mr. Adams. I thought you Americans were supposed to be more lighthearted." Drake _huff_ed.

"Not me, I suppose. Good-bye, Mrs. Wagner." As quick as he had come, the man was gone over the bridge to the church. Gilda looked back at the crowd of birds pecking for crumbs around her feet.

"That man has no sense of humor. I know he's a priest, but I've met children with better comedy taste than him." One, a raven, poked its head up at her. Gilda checked her pockets.

"Oh! Looks like I'm out of food. Sorry, little guy, that's all for today." She got up from her bench and walked around to the back of the house. The raven hopped alongside her.

"Shoo. Really, that's it." With an indigent _caw_ it flapped its wings and flew into the forest. Gilda noticed her husband fishing in the nearby river.

"You're up early, Albert. Hoping to snag something now?"

"Naw, just testing the new rod out." He looked over his shoulder at his wife.

"Listen, hon, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have stressed you out like that." Gilda waved her hand.

"It's not a big deal. Give it some time, and we can all just forget it ever happened." Her positive demeanor was betrayed by a much-too-wide smile.

"Listen, after I finish hanging up the clothes we can find something to do together to take our minds off of it. Alright?" Albert shrugged.

"Sounds good."

"Great, I'll get started." The clothes line was a bit farther off from the river, but still in the backyard, close enough for them to see each other. Albert let the rod sit for a while. It was a lazy Saturday, and he preferred the tranquility of the countryside at the moment. The hustle and bustle of his job so easily got to him, the little rural community was a welcome change. There was more time to relax and observe nature, something so rarely sought after during his youth in the city.

_But I'll be damned if it doesn't get _dull _soon._ Albert thought to himself. _I don't know what Gilda was going on about when she wanted a little place like this. Still, it's quiet enough…huh?_ Something was giving his rod a nasty tug.

"I didn't think fish in this river had this much weight to them! Honey, come over and see this!"

"Just a moment, dear, I just started." Albert pulled the rod upwards, but just then the weight disappeared, leaving the worm on the hook.

"What in the…?" He crouched down, scanning the river for his culprit, when he saw it. Some sort of swaddle was bobbing along on the waves, with a blue three-pronged thing sticking out of it. Other than that it was completely coated in wet cloth from head to toe. Curious, confused, he gave it a poke with the rod. The thing twitched, and he could hear a giggly voice from inside.

"All right, I'm here, now what was it you wanted to…oh my God…" Gilda practically shoved Albert to the ground once she saw the bundle. Stopping at the riverbed, she seemed about to pick it up, but her arms dropped involuntarily. She stood there for a long while, staring down at the thing as its journey downstream was halted by a couple rocks standing in the way. Finally, she lifted her shaking arms up again and scooped the drenched sack out of the river, so slowly that the child took no notice.

It wasn't hard to tell it was a baby of some sort; even with its face covered, the squealy noises gave it away. The three pronged toy navigated the woman's face, grabbing it like a clamp or a hand. Gilda wasn't looking down at it, however. She held the baby close to her chest and looked around, as though expecting someone to rip it from her. She had an uneasy expression on her face.

"Albert, don't just stand there! Set up a warm bath, the poor thing must be freezing!" Her husband nodded and practically snapped out of a trance, with the speed he was running inside, leaving the rod behind him. Gilda followed close behind and slammed the back door shut. Water from the child's rags dripped onto the wooden floor and seeped through the cracks, creating a small puddle where she was standing.

She wasn't sure what to do. For a moment she considered getting the baby out of the soaking rags, but decided it would be colder out in the open. Then she thought about calling the police department, but she couldn't do that either; whoever would leave their newborn child in such a reckless situation probably didn't deserve one. It was like a miracle, or something out of a dream. Here was the opportunity to start what she and her husband had so longed for…no.

After she got the baby in good health again, they would have to bring it back. The officers would find an orphanage to place him in, and Gilda refused to be called out as a kidnapper. Still, the idea of letting go of what she had most desired for so many years, and had just come to them so suddenly, made her heart sink. A little overwhelmed, she took a seat on the livingroom chair, dampening its cushy lining. The bundle sneezed once and shook, wracked with cold, only prompting Gilda to hold it tighter. A few minutes passed in this state; Gilda and the child waiting patiently, when,

"Alright, honey, I've got the tub ready! Bring 'im in and I'll get to a phone." Sighing, Gilda pushed herself out of the armchair, still clutching the baby tightly with her left hand. Albert squeezed past her while walking down the narrow hallway. She set the bundle down at the edge of the tub and proceeded to peel away the many wet-laden layers of rags.

"My, I'm surprised you didn't drown under all this stuff! OK little guy, time to get…what's this?" A blue piece of fuzz stuck out from under the last rag. Assuming it was another blanket, she tried to tug it loose, but the baby squealed angrily in response and jerked along with it. This loosened the rag that was covering it, and a slender blue tube poked through the layer, tipped with a sharp end. A moment of panic stuck in Gilda's throat. The tube was clad in more fur, much like a cat's tail…or a demon's, with the arrow end. Telling herself it was a stupid concern, she forced her bad feelings down and pulled the last blanket off of the child.

And what she saw made her want to cover it up again, if the creature hadn't immediately dived into the bathwater, springing off of the edge from three-fingered hands and two-fingered feet.


	3. Chapter 3

Inside the Wagner House

Chapter 2

"Albert? Albert, get in here!"

"I'm on the pho-"

"Get in here _now_! Y-you need to see this!" Gilda had almost completely backed herself up into the wall opposite the bathtub. The child—no, monkey—no, demon…well, it didn't _act_ like that last one, that was for sure. Whatever it was, it was completely enjoying itself, splashing water everywhere. For a few moments it locked eyes with Gilda, only serving to bring more chills running up her spine.

The eyes were huge and colorless, yet reflected an intelligence she hadn't expected from the creature. (_I suppose it's a he)_ she thought, daring to look a bit closer. Whatever he was, his entire body was coated in a thin layer of bright blue fur, topped with some tufts of longer fur on the forehead. The hands had a mere two fingers and a thumb, same minus the thumb for the feet, and the tail-oh goodness, the tail-was almost the length of her arm.

Albert came running in and looked to Gilda, puzzled and slightly annoyed. At a loss for words, she simply pointed to the tub and watched her husband's jaw drop down to his feet. A few more moments and he broke the silence.

"What in the name of hell is that? That's no kid, looks more like a big blue cat to me!" His arms were flailing so far apart that it made Gilda have to back up even more. The little creature giggled in response and pointed one of his thick fingers at Albert, completely oblivious to the tension. The man was unaffected.

"Look at him, seems like when he gets some teeth he'd be able to bite the heads off of your little birds!" Gilda's husband was jumpy in the best of times; she could practically hear his heart thumping faster. Sure enough, he started pacing the floor, casting nervous glances at the tub and to his wife. In the living room, a staticy voice called out from the phone.

"Sir? Sir, you wanted to report something?" Nobody in the bathroom dared to respond. There was a few more 'sir's, a click, and the woman on the other line had hung up after an eternity.

"What should we do?" Albert asked in a shaking voice. Gilda didn't answer. Curiosity began to overcome her fear; against her better nature, she took a few slow steps forward. The creature's attention was brought to her yet again. She crouched and, hesitantly, reached out one hand to him.

"Honey, I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Well, just…give it a chance, dear. I can get through this." The creature looked up at the limb, unblinking and wide-eyed, seemingly just as amazed as them. Cautiously, he reached out and gripped her index finger with a fuzzy hand, and started waving it above his head like a trophy. Gilda felt a smile creep across her face.

"I think he's harmless enough. Little thing couldn't kill someone if he tried." She looked up at her husband, with her finger still caught in the young one's grasp.

"He might even be human, what with the way he's acting." Albert turned to the child with a questioning look, then rubbed his brow and let out a long-winded sigh.

"Oh, I know what you're doing, Gilda. And it's not going to work."

"C'mon, look at this little guy! We can't just turn him away; who knows what people like that have in store for him!"

"People like what, exactly? We're not just going to leave this thi-him out in the cold or anything! Maybe if I call my bosses, they'll have room for him in the circus…" Gilda gave him a look which completely nullified any chance of _that _happening. He put his hands up defensively.

"It was just a suggestion. But I really don't think we should be keeping him around, who knows what we'd be getting into?"

"It'll just be for a few days. We have plenty of time to figure something out if nobody else does." Albert stood there for a minute, biting his lower lip. He leaned against the wall, mumbling his annoyances to himself, and looked down at the child with a scowl.

Of course it went right over his head, and the child reached up towards Albert's face with a wide grin to match. The man glanced away and tugged at his collar, ashamed at his own confliction. But Gilda was so optimistic, and the child so young, and, even with the threat of the unknown, the idea of leaving him out so repulsive…

"Well…I suppose. Not like you won't take him in anyway." Before Gilda could respond, her face already lighting up with excitement, he put a hand up.

"But do me a favor and keep him out of my hair. I'm still uneasy about the whole thing, but if this is _really_ what you want to do, go for it." His wife was bringing a small towel down from the rack, which she used to dry the child with. His fur fluffed out so much during the process that only his eyes were visible under it all.

"Yep, he's a _nasty_ little beast, can't you tell?" she said sarcastically. She smiled down at him.

"You could use a name."

"No, he cou-"

"Well, I'm not going to call him 'he' or 'the kid' for the next few days!" The way she put it, a few days sounded much longer. She hoisted him up into her arms, and once again he tried to make some grabs at her face.

"Aren't you a fuzzy one? You remind me of my old kitten that used to come by the house every so often. Little Kurtty, we called him, as a sort of joke. Our uncle's name was Kurt, so…yeah, that's the one! How do you like the name Kurt, honey?" Albert groaned.

"Name him whatever you like, I guess. As long as you keep an eye on him. I don't want people seeing this."

"Fair enough. I'll put Kurt in the extra room upstairs; there are no windows there, it should be fine." She took a few steps down the hallway, then paused to glance at her husband one more time.

"But honestly, I'd think you'd be a little more…excited." As if on cue, Kurt looked up at Albert from over Gilda's shoulder with a twinkle in his eye while, Albert was sure, memorizing his face. He found it amazing how his wife managed such feats of care; here she was now, babying a creature fished out of the river not fifteen minutes ago. It was incredible.

"Stop staring off into space and do something. We'll be upstairs." She walked up the staircase, Kurt still gazing down at Albert with an intense curiosity. Once they were out of sight he took a seat on the livingroom couch, shaking his head. _Oh lord, what have we gotten ourselves into?_

Suddenly, there was a mewling noise from the window, and a scrabbling at the glass. Albert got up to see an elegant-looking tabby on the other side, staring inside the house with its paws on the window.

"Oh, hello there. I don't suppose _you_ want to come in to? Sorry, but I think we're all full." The cat pricked its ears at his voice, and looked up. Albert had never seen such eyes on an animal before. Like Kurt's, they brimmed with intelligence, but also included the cat's signature wariness and cunning. If he didn't know any better, Albert would have thought it nodded. After a few seconds, the cat rose to its legs and jumped off the window ledge, padding off into the forest with a graceful air.

Sighing, he closed the blinds in the livingroom, so nobody could look in. It was a paranoid concern, of course, but better safe than sorry.

They weren't opened again for the next thirteen years, and the cat never returned to see.


End file.
